The Black Raven - Katharine Kerr [44]
Niffa sat down on the bench at the far side of the table and concentrated on her porridge. How could Emla think such a thing, that Raena should be allowed into the citizenry as a redeemed woman and a proper wife?
“I do wonder, though,” Dera was choosing each word carefully, “what sort of influence Raena might have on the councilman, if it be wholly good, that is.”
“Now that be a true question.” Emla nodded her agreement. “But once they were married, he would have the dominion over her, baint?”
“True, true.”
“I do think she be the sort of woman who does need a firm hand to guide her,” Emla went on. “And Verrarc, he be a stubborn sort of man.”
“That too be a true speaking.” Dera hesitated for a long moment. “You do know well that Verrarc, his happiness does mean much to me, ever since he did run to me for refuge when he were but a tiny lad. I do wish naught but the best for him.”
Niffa caught her mother’s eye and scowled. Dera turned away and looked only at Emla.
“Just so,” Emla said. “You do doubt, then, that Raena would make him a proper sort of wife?”
“I do,” Dera said. “Here, she be barren for one thing. It be no fault of her own, but a man like Verrarc, with property to leave—he does need sons, baint? Or a daughter to dower at least.”
“Huh! I’d not thought of that. But truly, she did stay with her husband for a year, and then she and Verrarc did give the gods plenty of chances to bless them.”
“Just so.”
Emla sucked her teeth for a thoughtful while. “Verrarc be a stubborn sort of man,” she said at last. “He’ll not be giving her up easily.”
“True spoken.”
“But you know what they do say, Dera. Sometimes a man must needs get what he wants before he can see that he wants it not.”
“Now that be a very true thing.” Dera paused, considering. “The more that the town speaks ill of her, the more loyal he’ll be.”
Niffa looked up from her bowl and glared. Emla waggled a long finger in her direction.
“That porridge must be sour stuff,” Emla said, “if I were to judge by the look on your face. What does ache your heart so badly, lass?”
Caught—Niffa could hardly tell Emla about her visions and suspicions. She laid her spoon down in the empty bowl.
“Ah well,” Niffa said at last. “Never have I liked Raena, truly. She does seem so sly, and who can ken where she’s been hiding herself this while past? She did show up in winter out of nowhere, baint?”
“Oh, that be simple enough.” Emla was smiling. “She did return to her father’s farm when her husband cast her out. No doubt the old man’s rubbed her raw with the shame of it. He always was that sort, all long nose for the looking down.”
“That be enough to drive anyone out into the snows,” Dera put in. “The poor woman!”
If her mother’s compassion had been kindled, Niffa knew, there was no use in arguing further.
“Well, Mistress Emla,” Dera went on, “if you go to speak with Werda, then I’ll be going with you to put in a word, like.”
“My thanks. The more of us, the better. I’ll be off to speak with some few others of the women here.”
When Emla was leaving, Niffa managed to force out a reasonably pleasant farewell, but she spoke not another word. Dera shut the door behind their departing guest and latched it for good measure. She sat down opposite Niffa.
“Mam! How could you!”
“Hush, now! You do think that Raena had somewhat to do with Demet’s death, but I be not so sure. Werda did say evil spirits, and would you be telling me that you do ken more of these matters than Werda?”
“Well, I wouldn’t. But she laughed, Raena I mean, laughed at him lying dead.”
“Be you so certain of that? There be times, when a woman or a man too for that matter, when she does see some great horror; and while it does seem that she laughs, truly there be no mirth in it, just a ghastly sort of sobbing without tears.”
Niffa started to answer, but her mother’s quiet voice caught her and made her think. What if she were accusing Raena falsely? That would be a terrible thing.
“Whatever you say, Mam. Mayhap you and Emla have the right of it.”
“My thanks.” Dera allowed